


In ictu oculi

by dyememono



Category: The Tarot Sequence - K.D. Edwards
Genre: Canon Compliant, Conspiracy, Family Secrets, Manipulation, Mind Manipulation, Past Abuse, Treachery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25504063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyememono/pseuds/dyememono
Summary: "Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them."― Dion Boucicault
Comments: 7
Kudos: 4





	1. ephemeris

Sholto fumbled with his keys as he tried to unlock his front door and winced when one of the plastic bags hanging from his arms slipped and dug into his skin. He hissed softly as the burning sensation slowly became worse and Sholto gritted his teeth, mulishly determined to get his apartment door open without putting down any of the bags. He smiled as he heard his cat (affectionately called Beastie) meow on the other side, welcoming home. 

When Sholto finally unlocked the damn door, he gently pushed it open with a foot, careful not to accidentally hit Beastie while trying to get in. Work had been mentally draining and the supermarket was packed full of grumpy and impatient people, and getting hip-checked by a hag definitely didn’t improve Sholto’s mood.

“We need to talk,” a voice came from behind him and without wasting a second, Sholto dropped his bags and shifted his center of gravity, swung around and pivoted on his heel then punched low, trying to catch the other person off-guard. Sholto flexed his will like a mental muscle and channeled the unleashed Shield and Force spells from his bronze ring and bracelet sigils, covering his fist with the former and reinforcing the strength of his attack with the latter. The result was a punch packed with the power of a battering ram and Sholto knew that if the attack connected it would incapacitate whoever had snuck upon him.

He realized he messed up when he couldn’t see anyone and his instincts screamed at him that he was too slow. A fraction of a second later Sholto tumbled backward as two fingers jabbed into his throat and breathing became almost impossible. His calm completely shattered the moment his throat seized up and his vision started going black at the edges. His fall was halted by a hand grabbing a fistful of his shirt and a wash of healing magic flowed over him. His first inhale was a loud gasp which turned into a coughing fit that had him double over as his body tried to catch up with all the sudden changes.

“You let your guard down Sholto and you were completely exposed. What if I had been a real assailant?” 

Sholto’s only response was a wince and once he straightened up, he looked down at the person admonishing him.

“First of all, if someone wanted me dead they wouldn’t have announced themselves before approaching and second of all, you know fucking well that I’m very good at sensing people and you completely blocked your presence so you startled me. And you were the one who trained me to fight first and ask questions later, Mom.”

Despite her short stature, Sholto’s mother had an intimidating presence and those who looked at her knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was not to be fucked with. Her bronze sigils perfectly complemented and accentuated her golden complexion and Greek features, however, what was most striking about her, were her eyes. Her eyes always magically reflected the sky and now, they were an arresting mix of purples and oranges of twilight.

Sholto’s mother gave him a smile and spread her arms wide and Sholto sighed defeatedly. He closed the distance between them and hugged her tightly while she did the same. 

“You scared the shit out of me you know,” complained a bit more Sholto but without any bite behind his words as they separated. “We’re not members of the Dagger Court, leave the shadowy figure act to Lord Tower’s people.” He picked up the bags he dropped and jerked his head towards the door and his mother rolled her eyes, and after picking up the keychain on the floor, she deftly unlocked the door and strode inside. Sholto followed her and deposited his bags on the kitchen counter then went looking for his poor terrified cat. It took a minute to coax Beastie out from under the couch but the moment he saw Sholto’s mother he sauntered towards her demanding chin scratches.

“Traitor,” Sholto said affectionately while putting his groceries away. “But yeah, why did you conceal your presence? Was this some kind of weird test? Did I fail?”

His mother shook her head and scooped up Beastie as she sat down on the couch. Sholto could sense that something was off about his mom and ignoring the rest of the groceries, he sat beside her.

“Is everything okay?”

“I concealed my presence because I do not want anyone to know I am here,” she replied carefully.

“Now you’re starting to scare me, what’s going on?” asked Sholto nervously, his mouth suddenly dry and his heartbeat thundering in his ears. His mother ever so gently put down his cat she had been petting then turned towards Sholto and fixed her gaze on her son.

“I know about your dreams and nightmares, Sholto.”

Sholto stared at her uncomprehending for three heartbeats and when understanding dawned on him, the blood drained from his face. His mother reached out to steady him and Sholto took in a deep stuttering breath.

“How?” he whispered softly, the word ringing unexpectedly loud in the apartment. Sensing his distress, Beastie rubbed against Sholto’s leg and began purring when he stroked his back.

“Before I answer, there is one last thing I need to do,” Sholto’s mother said as she extended a hand into the air, drew a circle above their heads, and activated one of her sigils. Sholto’s ears popped from the wave of magic his mother summoned washing over him, and there was a second of tense silence then she nodded satisfied.

“Now we’re shielded from any prying eyes or ears.”

Sholto swallowed, knowing that if he didn’t divulge the information his mother wanted she would interrogate him and extract it by force if she deemed it necessary. He already had enough of her physical affection for the rest of the year and it took an inordinate amount of his self-control to not flinch when those midnight blue eyes sized him up.

“Before I say anything,” he said falteringly, “Am I speaking to Lord Strength’s enforcer or to Astraea Galanis, mother of Sholto Galanis?”

He felt the mood shift and Astraea’s oppressive presence seemed to relax, and her blank expression morphed into something more human.

“I am here as your mother. This is unrelated to any court business.”

“Swear on it.”

Astraea reared back, genuinely shocked for a split second at the authoritative tone of her son’s demand but seeing how serious he was about it, she assented.

“I, Astraea Galanis swear on my name and magic that I am visiting my firstborn child Sholto Galanis of my own volition, and I am not here on official court business but as a concerned mother.”

Magic coiled and slithered against their skin, and the vow grew taut between them, snapping into place after the last syllable fell from Astraea’s lips. Sholto nodded and without saying a word, stood up and walked to his bookshelf and pulled out a thick leather notebook. He walked back and handed it over to his mother who looked at it, puzzled.

“What is this?”

“It’s my dream diary.”

Astraea blinked owlishly at Sholto, visibly confused by his statement. Sholto ran a hand through his hair and pointed at the notebook.

“It’s a journal I keep for writing about my dreams and nightmares. Since you think they’re so important, go ahead. Flip through it. I’m going to feed Beastie while you read.”

Sholto was just about finished with scraping cat food into his cat’s bowl when he heard Astraea gasp and he quickly turned around to look at his mother to see what made her react so audibly. Her eyes were glued to the diary, her fingers moving in a blur, flipping pages at an incredible speed and Sholto felt apprehension at the sight. His mother was clearly transfixed by something but he knew better than to disturb her. Then Astraea flipped to the last entry and her body went rigid as she took the page in. There were only four lines of text written in perfect calligraphy and under it were dozens and dozens of eyes sketched across the page, seemingly observing the reader. Some were neatly lined while others were scrawled, and their placement, size, and color seemed completely random. Astraea finally looked up and Sholto’s stomach clenched because her eyes were darting around the room erratically.

“ _Oh Sorrowful Mothers, what is that?_ ” she whispered, a look of utter horror on her face.

She looked up, her dark eyes tracing the movement of something only she was seeing, and at the apex of the unseen thing’s trajectory, her eyes widened and screamed. Astraea flung Sholto’s dream diary across the room and the moment it left her hand, she covered her eyes and rocking back and forth she moaned, “ _no no no no no, oh gods above and below_.”

Sholto looked at his mother and his heart hurt at the sight of what she had become and knew what he had to do. He gingerly pressed his left index finger to her forehead and with a voice ringing with power, he uttered, “Return.” Plunging deep into his own magic, Sholto visualized a tendril made of crystal clear water, and reaching out with it, touched Astraea’s mind. He was immediately besieged by shards of dreams and nightmares he was already too familiar with and bolstering his magic with one of his sigils, and with incredible precision, Sholto withdrew the jagged foreign elements lodged into his mother’s consciousness.

Mother and son came to at the same time, and both hissed, the living room light too bright after their shared harrowing experience.

“I knew it,” announced Astraea and winced at the volume of her voice. 

And then she said the one phrase Sholto was dreading hearing the most in his life.

“ _You are a dream seer_.”


	2. somniloquy

Sholto flopped down onto the couch beside Astraea and sighed wearily.

“Yes, I’m a dream seer but I don’t know why you had to be so dramatic about it, you did say you knew about my dreams and nightmares after all.”

He frowned and looked at his mother with visible suspicion because his intuition was telling him something didn’t add up...

“How exactly do you know about them? I don’t think I ever told you.”

“You were very careful with your secret, however, you had a sleepwalking episode when you were eight years old. I believe that was the first time you had a prophetic dream. I remember how you stood there in the dark in my room, talking about a wild hunt led by a rabid hound chasing the sun. You were so small and scared,” she replied and her voice lacked her usual imperious tone Sholto was so used to. 

He felt a pang of pity seeing her so drained and vulnerable, and he patted her leg awkwardly in sympathy. Some of the dreams Sholto recorded in his dream diary were quite harrowing and a few were so horrific even thinking about them made Sholto want to crawl to the nearest corner, curl up there, and cry.

Astraea’s explanation still felt somehow incomplete so Sholto doggedly questioned her further.

“That was years ago, why are you confronting me about them _now_? You didn’t seem too concerned all these years, what changed so suddenly?”

Astraea clasped her hands together in her lap and it didn’t escape Sholto’s attention that the gesture was a stalling tactic, and his mood darkened because he knew, whatever his mother was about to say, it was going to royally piss him off.

“You have been sleep talking for a number of days. I do not remember you ever having this issue as a child or teenager, and it surfacing now of all times, and the things you say have me… concerned.”

Sholto stared at her and a deep rage began to burn within his core, and he felt his Aspect react to Astraea’s words. The edges of his vision swirled and a red glow lit his mother’s face, and Sholto knew his eyes had bled from his usual blues to whirlpools threatening to drown anyone who dared look into them for too long and that the red glow was from the vivid scarlet coral crown growing from his skull. 

“How _exactly_ do you know what I say in my sleep?” he asked and Astraea made an involuntary movement when she saw how Sholto’s teeth had become sharp and serrated like a shark’s.

His mother waved a dismissive hand at him.

“Stop it with the bravado, you do not need to unnerve me, I am more than willing to answer your question,” she said while rolling her head to stretch her neck. Sholto closed his eyes and focused on his breathing and gently asked his Aspect to retreat. By the time he opened his eyes, they felt normal and the red glow had faded as well. Astraea nodded and continued.

“Judging from your reaction you have an idea how I might know about your new sleeping habit. Have you never wondered why your rent was so uncharacteristically reasonable? You live in the heart of the city and you have your own parking space.”

Sholto scowled and he suddenly felt tired. He had been so naive.

“I thought the rent was so cheap despite the location was because the building had almost zero psychic energy to it and it’s only a decade old.”

“Your assumption was partially correct. However, the truth is, one of Lord Strength’s close associates owns the building and as a request from Lord Strength, the wards were modified before the apartments were rented out.”

Sholto rubbed his eyes as fatigue spread across his body.

“So the reason why I never found any listening devices was because they are magical and part of the ward system. Clever. And could cause a huge scandal if the tenants were to realize their privacy was being so flagrantly disregarded.”

Astraea shrugged, unperturbed by Sholto’s statement. She stood up and walked to one of the windows facing the main road and absorbed the sight of the New Atlantis nightlife.

“I was alerted by one of the overseers that you began exhibiting signs of major distress in your sleep and you were also sleep talking. Did you know that you have been repeating the same phrases the last twenty-seven days?”

Sholto nodded then realized his mother couldn’t see him so he added, “Yes, I know. Why do you think there are so many eyes on the last page? There was no point in writing down the same dream over and over again so after the first one, I started drawing eyes to indicate I was experiencing the same dream time and time again.”

“Why eyes?”

Sholto hesitated because… why _did_ he start doodling eyes? It felt right when he came up with the system but now that Astraea asked…

“I-I uh, actually have no idea,” he confessed. “I think because I was _seeing_ the dream or vision or whatever the hell it is, I thought using an eye to symbolize the action of observing was apt.”

His mother turned around and stared at him.

“How did you turn your journal into an artifact?”

“I didn’t.”

They regarded each other in silence then Astraea raised an eyebrow that made Sholto smile.

“I’m not lying! I haven’t done anything magical to it, I thought you were using your Aspect and being unnecessarily dramatic.”

At that, his mother looked somewhat cross and shook her head.

“No Sholto, I experienced the things you had written down in that notebook as if I was the one receiving them. I have a hypothesis which is that your natural psionic talents combined with your dream seer abilities created an incredibly potent psychic focus.”

She looked to where she had flung Sholto’s dream diary during her episode and her expression turned contemplative.

“I think it is time.”

Sholto cocked his head in confusion then walked to where his notebook was lying and carefully picked it up. Luckily it didn’t get damaged and he placed it back on to the shelf he took it from.

“For what?”

“For you to learn our family’s true history and inheritance.”

Sholto frowned because something… something was going on and it skirted along the edges of his memory.

“Now?”

“No. Come to our ancestral home this Saturday. Be there by noon. I have much to prepare.”

She strode across Sholto’s apartment seemingly with renewed purpose and Sholto stared at her incredulously.

“Seriously? Are you seriously going to go full cloak and dagger now?”

“Yes.”

Sholto threw his hands up in the air in defeat.

Astraea opened the door and before closing it she said, “Work on your perception, I was able to incapacitate you by ducking under your line of sight. As your mother, it is my responsibility to prepare you for the worst and how to survive. Stay safe and do not forget our appointment on Saturday.”

Sholto gaped at her then before the door slammed shut he yelled, “Oh come on!”


	3. tenebra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee.'  
> — Friedrich Nietzsche (Beyond Good and Evil)

And so there he stood in front of his family’s ancestral home.

Sholto shielded his eyes with a hand, the Sun almost blinding and the heat wrapped around him, trying to sap his strength. He growled, took his phone out and dialed his mother’s number, tapping his foot impatiently on the ancient stones beneath his feet.

The Galanis ancestral home was a bona fide Roman villa and before the Unsettlement it stood on the shore facing the Petal Sea of Old Atlantis. Sholto’s family was able to obtain a special permit (citing historical reasons) to have the building translocated to a similar geographical location. Despite the lack of magical flowers, the view was still gorgeous, and when Sholto closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, he could smell the scent of the ocean on the breeze.

Predictably, Astraea only answered her phone to say, “I will be with you in a minute,” then hung up. Sholto rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly because the magical defenses around the villa were frankly ridiculous because even though he was a direct descendant, Sholto wasn’t able to access the building. Only his maternal grandparents and mother were able to enter and only with their explicit permission was anyone else permitted to come inside. It was tedious and distrustful to an almost paranoid degree. Honestly, his family should’ve belonged to the Dagger Court with all the safety measures they had instead of being Lord Strength’s enforcers and intelligent officers.

Sholto was snapped out from his musing by his mother who seemed to have materialized in front of him without a sound and Sholto most definitely wasn’t startled by her. Without a word, Astraea grabbed Sholto’s hand (which was still grasping his phone), and with force belying her short stature, she yanked Sholto inside the building. He sensed the wards around the building rake across his skin and their magical pressure left him disoriented. It was his second time being inside the villa and the atrium was still as breathtaking as he remembered. The tiled floor was enchanted to look like the Petal Sea and wherever Astraea and Sholto stepped, small waves rippled out, illusory flower petals swaying gently, offering the illusion of walking on water. Sholto looked up and his eyes widened in wonder, the ceiling so fascinating he stopped in his tracks. Astraea peered over her shoulder and seeing her son admiring the ceiling, she walked back to him and looked up as well.

“Almost the entirety of it is made from lapis lazuli,” she said without any preamble. “Though there are traces of albite and azurite as well.

“How?” Sholto asked, awed.

“One of our ancestors was a renowned artist and this jewel work was one of his masterpieces. It was his marital gift to his husband. His husband was from the Star Court and so he recreated the firmament for him.”

“It seems that having some form of artistic talent surfaces here and there in our family. Great-grandfather was a bronzesmith and sigil maker after all.”

Astraea nodded and led Sholto to the shallow circular pool in the middle of the atrium. The tiles were arranged in an almost dizzying fractal pattern, and as Sholto gazed at it he suddenly felt lightheaded and it was only thanks to his mother grabbing him by the shoulder and steadying him that Sholto didn’t stumble. Even after looking away the design still danced in his vision and he rubbed his eyes to lessen the strain.

“Apologies, I should have warned you about that,” Astraea said while giving Sholto a once-over with her eyes.

“What the hell is that?” Sholto asked heatedly as he straightened and tapped his mother’s hand to let go.

“A pool,” was her simple answer, and her uncharacteristically lackadaisical attitude irritating him even further.

“Yes I can see that but it’s not just that.”

Sholto reached out and held his hand palms down above the pool and closed his eyes for a moment, opening his senses to the ambient magic around them. The energy swayed around them, currents of it brushing against him but something was also pulling threads of his power and twisting them towards...

He snatched his hand away as soon as he sensed something viscerally _wrong_ under it.

“This is no fucking ordinary pool, the ambient energy is being funneled into it. Why?” Sholto demanded from his mother. It didn’t make any sense, why would something like this be in their ancestral home? The energy was being drawn into the middle of the vortex without any purpose. This was not something that just happened organically, there had to be intent behind its existence.

Sholto took a step back when he saw his mother’s face; her usual impassive expression morphed into an almost satisfied yet predatory smile.

“You _are_ ready as I have suspected. Watch and commit this moment to memory.”

Sholto’s hands coiled into fists, the sudden change in Astraea’s demeanor setting off alarm bells in his mind. He was used to her unhelpful answers but the eagerness in her voice was alarming.

She walked to the pool and similar to what Sholdo had done earlier, she reached out and held her right hand above the design and stood there motionless for a few heartbeats. Sholto felt Astraea unleash a minor spell from one of her sigils and he gasped when small wounds appeared unbidden on the fingertips of her extended hand. What disturbed Sholto was how unconcerned Astraea was about them and how no blood dripped from the wounds. She murmured a word and it was only then blood began to seep from the gashes. Sholto looked in horror as her blood _flowed_ towards the center of her palm, the five rivulets of blood undulating to some unholy rhythm. They converged and where they met blood swirled, taking the form of a marble-sized orb that pulsed like some grotesque imitation of a heart. It detached and floated in a gravity-defying way, and Sholto’s world narrowed down to that… thing.

“ _Let the Old Blood open the Way_ ,” Astraea chanted and the phrase startled Sholto because she had said it in Old Atlantean. The dialect was archaic and he barely understood it but the worst of it was how _familiar_ it sounded.

Sholto watched transfixed as the marble of blood hurtled towards the pool and once it hit its surface, the lovely simulated Petal Sea floor turned deep red and Sholto could taste something metallic on his tongue. The air above the fractal design darkened and Sholto would’ve sworn he felt a presence reach out from the inky darkness, however, it vanished when Astraea thrust her arm out and presented her bloody palm. 

A low sonorous wail filled the air and it echoed in Sholto’s mind and he screamed as terror overtook him. He vaguely heard his mother say something, her voice laced with pure Power so potent Sholto could do nothing but cower. The void parted and as it did, silence filled the air, and Sholto's consciousness went completely blank. After the cacophony of wails, groans, howls that had filled his head, the sudden deafening quiet made him feel hollow and somehow brittle. 

Sholto raised his tear-streaked face and stared mutely as the darkness finished unfurling and a blinding Portal manifested within it.

Astraea looked over her shoulder and Sholto recoiled under her gaze.

“Come,” she commanded and stepped through the tear in reality.


	4. index librorum prohibitorum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a while to write simply because real life hasn't been too kind to me, but better late than never! Who's hyped for the 3rd book?

Sholto spat, blood splattering on the pulsing red floor, his face contorting in disgust at the sight of it getting almost hungrily absorbed into the ground, leaving no trace behind. A continuous low hum made his bones and teeth ache, and even without his ability to sense subtle magics, Sholto knew without a shadow of a doubt that what he was feeling was reality howling from the violation Astraea was inflicting upon it.

He took unsteady steps towards the tear in the universe and averted his gaze, the light bursting out from the darkness almost too blinding. Sholto recoiled when he got too close to the void, knowing that even just brushing against it would mean complete annihilation. Right before entering the Portal, the light doubled and then tripled in intensity, and to his horror, for a brief second, the light shone through him, and despite the frantic staccato of his heartbeat in his ears, Sholto instead saw his veins pulsing in rhythm with the awful thrum pressing against him.

He stepped into the portal before the last remains of his sanity fled and yet, improbably, Sholto stumbled as his foot passed through. Sholto fell through the portal and was abruptly yanked forward by an invisible force and cried out in pain as he fell to his knees. His throat constricted in fear, realizing he was kneeling on a narrow path of light which was the only thing severing the lifeless darkness. His pain-filled cry echoed in the vastness and as it faded, it was replaced by an amused chuckle. It seeped into Sholto’s mind and reverberated in his skull until it drowned out all of his panicked half-formed thoughts.

.

.

**Ŵ͓͕̪̬̯̠̲̬͇̅̌͐͒̎͟͠h̶̨̳͎̤͚̭̪̯͇̃̓̊̓̐̕͘͡a̴̢̤̦̻̟̱̻̣̔͆͑͌͢͝ť̢͓̠͉͉̘̬̩̲̓͂̀̾̀̄͝͞ d̢̧̻̙̖̼̝̜͙̟̓̌̀̒͠o̢̨̠̠͉̗͒̋́͋̆̾̐̿͜ w̸̝̘͉̹̥̙̆̄̆́͋́͊̑͆ȩ̴̥̝͍̺̻̽̈́̀͌̋͂ h̳̙̦̻̥̥͚̿̄̍̾̉a̻̖̭̝̣̲̹̝̙͛̋̔͐͆͜v̨͇̟̖̺̈̑̄̉̽̾͘e͚̳̦̪̦̝̠̋̌̾̽͘ h̴̡͓̹̥̻̬̝̗̓͒̃͐̐̉̚͜͜e̜͙̙̺̹̭̲͉͙͌̈́͑̈́̑͜ṙ̰̻͚͖̭̋̅͋͋͋̀e̩̮͈͔͒̓̋̔͊̚͢͟͟?̡͎̠̻̮̖̖̺͆̆́͌̆̿̂̔͂** **,**

  
  
  


Sholto pushed himself up and shuddered, and he felt blood trickle from his nose under the weight of the question. The voice was coming from above but determined to get over the nightmarish experience, Sholto ignored it and began walking into the distance.

**ɎØɄⱤ ₥ł₦Đ ł₴ Ɽł₱Ɇ ₩ł₮Ⱨ ₣Ɇ₳Ɽ. ł₮ ł₴ ₴₩ɆɆ₮. . .**

Sholto had no idea what the entity was or where it came from, and he hoped that if he ignored it, it would grow bored and leave him alone. There was a flicker of movement on the edge of Sholto’s vision and it took every ounce of his willpower to not look at whatever was following him. His fingers clenched into a tight ball, nails digging painfully into his palms, and Sholto knew they would leave crescent-shaped scars. Like a child, Sholto hoped that by not acknowledging the scary bad thing, it would simply stop existing. Relief flooded Sholto as he spotted a glowing archway and not giving a damn about his dignity he began running towards it.

**𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠 𝕤𝕠𝕠𝕟? 𝔸 𝕡𝕚𝕥𝕪.**

To his right, another source of light bloomed and Sholto’s attention was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was a globe of light and as soon as his eyes locked on it, the look of fear and anxiety was replaced by one of contentment on Sholto’s face and his whole body turned towards the new light source. As he was about to step off the path, pain exploded in Sholto’s eyes and he fell back yelling in pain and terror as he was almost lured from the safety of the path and about to step into nothingness.

Looking up again, for the first time Sholto could see past the orb of light and gaze upon the entity hellbent on taking him. He only saw flashes of it as it was too alien for Sholto’s mind to fully comprehend. He saw a gigantic eyeless segmented body, rows of dagger-like teeth spiralling into its maw, and hundreds of spindly arms attached to it beckoning Sholto.

**𝕬𝖍𝖍𝖍, 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖑𝖐. 𝕹𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖓. 𝕽𝖚𝖓 𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖓𝖔𝖜.**

The entity’s light winked out of existence and Sholto wiped his tears away furiously before standing up and running again, scrambling for the exit. Not giving a damn where the archway might lead to, Sholto leaped into the golden light without hesitation.

....

A fresh rush of adrenaline galvanized Sholto’s body into action and he threw himself to the side as soon as his feet hit solid ground. He released a number of sigils, the pressure of released energy filling him with purpose and by the time he was back up, Sholto was ready to face whatever new surprise Astraea had prepared. However the sight of his surroundings was so unexpected Sholto stood there wide-eyed and panting, his combat spells temporarily forgotten.

The perilous path Sholto had braved ultimately led to a library. The scale of the structure was awe-inspiring and each bookshelf was stories high filled with thousands of scrolls and books. Sholto closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, his whole being relaxing, the serenity of the library calming his nerves. For some odd reason Sholto felt at home within this vast library though to his knowledge this was his very first time being here. He opened his eyes and blinked, a metallic glint in the distance catching his attention and feeling inquisitive Sholto decided to investigate. The closer Sholto got to the metallic object he had glimpsed from a distance, two things became clear to him; the concentration of energy was growing denser and that he recognized the object. He had never seen one in-person before only in pictures but the metallic object radiating magic was a colossal armillary sphere; its rings rotating slowly.

Sholto cautiously walked down the path leading to the sphere and reaching the end of it he stopped abruptly. Looking back and forth it became clear wherever Sholto was transported to, the device was its center or rather its core. One of the outer rings shifted and Astraea’s figure was revealed momentarily and a surge of powerful emotions urged Sholto to chase after her. Genuine rage and hatred drove him forward and Sholto felt his Aspect erupt to the surface and he embraced all of it. Reason and logic fled, and Sholto howled like a beast, his shark-like teeth and clawed hands aching with the need to rend the flesh of his enemy. 

There!

Astraea came into full view and a savage grin stretched across Sholto’s face. His mother was facing away, her back towards him and his Aspect screamed  _ PREY _ .

Sholto crouched then lept, his vision going red with bloodlust and sea foam bubbling out of his mouth. He slammed into an invisible Shield, pain overcoming his senses then Sholto raked his claws across the surface of the barrier, trying to find purchase to no avail. He growled and bashed his head against his mother’s Shield, and using his innate abilities drove imaginary fists into Astraea’s mind. Tiny hairline fractures began to appear in the air and Astraea finally looked over her shoulder. Despite being fully enveloped by his Aspect, the golden searchlight glow of Astraea’s eyes pinned Sholto in place, his body going rigid with fear. Those eyes assessed him, stripped away all his defenses, and Sholto felt exposed to a degree he could barely process. Sholto’s Aspect evaporated into nothing and Sholto didn’t blame it for tucking its proverbial tail between its legs and fleeing. Like many of her contemporaries, Astraea aped being human, however, in moments like these when all pretenses were left behind, Sholto was reminded that not only was she a leader of a noble house, but also a Principality. Sholto cried out as magic superheated around his mother and he shielded his eyes in a futile effort to keep the image of her Aspect from being burned into his mind. Cloaked in her Aspect, Astraea was the living embodiment of divine wrath, and Sholto could only cower in front of her.

“Enough,” she commanded imperiously, the weight of the word forcing Sholto to his knees and his head down, and Sholto’s anger flared up again when he realized she made him prostrate himself before her and forced him into submission. His muscles burned from the strain of trying to hold his ground, but Astraea was simply too powerful to resist. After a few seconds Sholto gave up his futile rebellion and simply stared at the white marble floor. The otherworldly pressure remained for another three heartbeats then eased.

“In any other circumstance, your behavior would have been inexcusable. However, I know from personal experience that meeting the Guide is always an… ordeal.”

Sholto raised his head at that, unable to stop himself from snapping at Astraea.

“Did it never cross your mind that as a psion, encountering that Lovecraftian fuck would just about drive me crazy? It almost lured me off the path! If you weren’t so fucking cryptic all the time and just told me shit like a normal parent, I might’ve been able to shield my mind from its influence and not end up almost becoming its food!”

He heard a soft sound and when he looked at his mother, Sholto blinked in surprise. His usually unflappable mother looked utterly shellshocked, her eyes filled with horror. Seeing her so rattled deeply unsettled Sholto and shook him to his core because she truly forgot to take his unique abilities into account. Looking at her closer, Sholto noticed that her fingers were twitching ever so slightly and Astraea’s usual composure was fraying at the edges. Although the only way Sholto could really describe his relationship with his mother is tumultuous, knowing her, offering any kind of comfort would only make the situation worse and with a heavy heart, Sholto abstained from reaching out. Astraea opened her mouth to say something and Sholto quickly raised a hand to stop her.

“Never mind,” he sighed. Standing up, Sholto drank in the peculiar sight of the library and its apparent center with awe.

Astraea cleared her throat and walked to Sholto and placed a hand on his shoulder and for a few quiet moments, they stood there as mother and son. She gently turned Sholto towards the armillary sphere and said, “This is the heart of this pocket realm. This library is a small plane of existence that houses the knowledge and experiences of our elders.” 

With her free arm she made a grand sweeping gesture and continued. “All these tomes, scrolls, and clay tablets you see around us are representations of memories left behind by our forebearers. We are descendants of Dorotheos the Chronicler and as you probably can see, they were not the only chronicler in our family. Each and every one of us contributes to this library and it is my responsibility to prepare you to inherit the duty bestowed upon us by  _ Her _ .”

Sholto’s sense of wonder faded as he listened to his mother and he frowned after hearing the last sentence. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was just a sacrificial lamb and he suppressed a shiver hearing the fervor in Astraea’s voice.

“Who is this enigmatic Her? The Guide said I was ‘of her ilk’,” Sholto asked with a barely concealed suspicion.

Astraea turned her head and stared into Sholto’s eyes and there was an intensity to it that made Sholto want to step away from her, but the hand on his shoulder flexed, Astraea’s fingers digging into his flesh painfully.

“She is our family’s true patron, our original Arcana whom we have remained loyal to even after all this time since the usurpers and traitors cast her out into Not. You bear her mark my son.”

Sholto’s heart began to race, a sense of foreboding urging him to get away from his mother, but it was as if he was rooted in place, and he couldn’t look away. He was both drawn and repulsed by her expression because he had only seen it a handful of times on others and each memory haunted him. Astraea’s expression was that of a true fanatic.

“She is the true ruler of Atlantis and the archon of the Hourglass Throne. The Arcana of Time.”


	5. cupiditas

“You’re insane,” said Sholto and as if the statement reaffirmed reality and pulled him back from the precipice, he was finally able to wrench himself away from his mother. “What you’re saying is treason!”

Astraea shook her head and white-hot anger blinded Sholto when she looked at him with eyes filled with pity. 

“You will understand. Now come, your inoculation awaits.”

Sholto took a few steps back, unsure what she meant by that, but he didn’t run away. As bizarre the situation was, the library felt… right. Sholto’s intuition whispered to him that the space itself was safe, however, the same couldn’t be said about his mother’s sanity. Even just alluding to the banished twenty-third Arcana could get one severely punished and Astraea’s bold proclamations could’ve gotten her executed on grounds of high treason and sedition.

“What’s this inoculation you’re talking about?” he asked, edging his way closer to one of the shelves in case he needed to duck and run.

“In your current state despite resisting the Guide’s pull, you are still considered a simple interloper in this hallowed space. You have no Authority.”

Sholto cocked his head, trying to interpret what Astraea was trying to convey with her usual crypticness. Standing so close to the immense armillary sphere felt like standing next to a magical subwoofer. The energy it radiated was hard to ignore and it took every ounce of Sholto’s Will to suppress its effects or otherwise he wouldn’t be able to use the most elementary spells close to it. The device had its own magical gravitational pool though it’s to be expected from an arcane automaton generating a frankly uncharacteristically stable realm.

“Let me guess, you’re inoculated and thus have ‘authority’. What makes the process so special?’

“It binds one’s mind to this realm and gives control over it. Additionally, those with Authority may expel any intruders and only those bonded to the engine can access the memories stored within the library.”

Sholto blinked owlishly at Astraea in confusion.

“Oookay,” Sholto drawled trying to process all this new information. “So how does one get inoculated?”

Astraea raised an eyebrow at that.

“What?” snapped Sholto. “I’m legitimately curious, this is after all a technomagical marvel. This, I like. It’s the Time Arcana stuff I need time to wrap my head around, but for now, let’s deal with one issue at a time. So, what needs to be done?”

Astraea laughed, the sound laced with amusement.

“It seems I should have appealed to your curiosity. Do not for one moment think I do not know that you have an agenda, I recognize that expression on your face. You are a schemer through and through. It is exactly why I kept you far away from the Tower’s web of intrigues.”

Sholto smiled enigmatically and waved a hand, urging his mother to continue. She didn’t need to know he was committing everything to memory and the moment they returned to their reality, he would leverage it against her. Maybe even gain a few favors from Lord Strength and Lord Tower. 

Astraea motioned Sholto to come closer and pointed at a golden circle on the floor.

“Stand in there so that I can initiate the attunement process.”

Sholto walked to the circle but stopped a few inches away from it. Straining his magical senses, he reached out and to his surprise, the circle itself seemed magically inert.

“You still haven’t explained what this whole inoculation or attunement thing is going to entail. I need a bit more information because I’m not going to blindly trust you again.”

Sholto heard Astraea sigh and she passed behind him, and Sholto’s muscles tensed in anticipation of pain; an old ingrained habit after training countless hours with his mother. He tracked her movements from the corner of his eye.

“It is nothing elaborate. After you step into the circle, the sphere and its rings are going to move until the arrow is able to touch your forehead. The automaton registers your magical and spiritual essence, creates a repository specifically for your use within the library, and grants you full Authority. You may also come and go as you please without needing me or any other family members to be present.”

“You keep putting a lot of emphasis on the word authority. Why?”

“It is the closest translation of what the original word means. It is derived from Old Atlantean, however, the Old Atlantean word has the connotation of having the power to control a region without impunity. Following the attunement process, you are going to gain unilateral control over this pocket dimension.”

Sholto’s eyes widened in surprise after hearing Astraea’s explanation and she nodded.

“That’s… That’s a lot of power for someone to have,” stammered Sholto.

“And responsibility,” retorted Astraea, giving him a pointed look. “Are you satisfied?”

“Yes,” Sholto replied softly. There was no point stalling any longer, knowing his mother, Astraea was holding back on him, but his curiosity and greed were urging him to claim the power she was offering. If there was a cost he would gladly pay it for all the knowledge safeguarded by his family. 

Taking a step forward, Sholto entered the circle, stood to attention, and nodded assertively at Astraea, steeling himself for the ritual. Astraea’s began chanting in English and seamlessly switched over to Old Atlantean, and finally, into a language, Sholto was unable to identify. He startled badly when his mother suddenly clapped her hands and yelled out a word then went silent. The clap and word echoed in the vast library and Sholto lurched when the ground bucked under him, and he widened his stance and braced for any other sudden movement, afraid of accidentally stumbling out of the circle before the inoculation concluded. Dropping his mental and magical defenses, Sholto cast out his senses and gasped as he realized the sphere had gone quiet. A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind, but what stuck with him was that the quiet surrounding the armillary sphere was that of anticipation. 

As the sound of Astraea’s clap and shout faded into nothing, everything went still around Sholto and he looked around nervously. Less than two heartbeats had passed when the space around Sholto roared, the pure volume of the sound threatening to tear him apart and staring at the sphere, he saw it pulse and throb in a hideous mockery of a beating heart, and in a blink of an eye, the arrow jutting out from the sphere extended lightning quick. It was too fast and Sholto was in mid-blink when the tip of the arrow pierced his forehead and pain exploded in his skull. Sholto shrieked because the arrow not only pierced his physical body it wounded his spirit. Too many things were happening at once and unable to cope with the sensations overloading his mind, pain enveloped Sholto and thrust him into oblivion.


	6. odium

Sholto groaned and opened his eyes then hissed and winced as pain erupted in his head when he looked into the bright light swaying right above him. He swore loudly and blessedly the glowing orb emanating the light winked out from existence and Sholto blinked tears away. Before Sholto could take stock of his surroundings his mother’s face came into view, blocking most of his sight. Astraea’s eyes roamed his face, eyes darting around assessing his state and although he was still fully clothed Sholto felt completely naked and exposed. It didn’t help that his whole body felt like it weighed a ton, his body only allowing him to wiggle his fingers, and Sholto let out an exasperated sigh.

“I knew you’d fuck me over somehow,” he complained. Sholto hoped he sounded gruff but judging from Astraea’s smirk, she knew how weak he felt, and besides whining he couldn’t do much else.

“Had I warned you in advance, you would have fought the attunement process with fangs and claws with the possibility of permanently damaging your psyche. We need you whole and lucid for what is to come.”

“Ah, so you admit that you only care about my wellbeing when it benefits you?” Sholto inquired sarcastically fully knowing well what his mother’s response would be.

He flinched when Astraea stroked his cheek and rolled his head to the side until her gaze bore into his.

With surprising tenderness, she whispered, “You cannot yet comprehend how important you are. After reading your journal filled with prophetic dreams, I now know that it is time to reveal the truths I have kept from you. Believe me, Sholto when I say the pain you have gone through and experienced so far will seem inconsequential compared to the enormity of what you are about to learn.”

Sholto’s Aspect roared to life after hearing Astraea’s proclamation and he felt his eyes grow warm and multihued blue light lit up his mother’s face, and the usually stoic visage of Astraea slipped for the briefest of moments and Sholto saw a flicker of fear in her eyes.

“So all the agony you have etched into my mind and body is insignificant?” Sholto demanded and his voice echoed with barely restrained fury.

“Ah but there you are wrong,” replied Astraea, and the fear in her eyes was replaced by mirth. “Your choice of words is rather interesting, your prophetic abilities must work passively while you are awake. There are only a very few ways to interact with our Arcana. The others cast Her into a sliver of Not where She endures unending pain. The only way to bridge the gap between our realm and the in-between where She is locked away is by synchronicity. One must experience agony to face her.”

Astraea cocked her head and grinned, the ruthlessness and malice visible on her face were almost too much to witness.

“Why do you think I had the Agonies developed and then disseminated? It is so much easier to chemically induce pain than through old fashioned torture.”

Sholto gasped and looked at Astraea with growing horror.

“Do you have any idea how many fucking lives you’ve ruined?” he asked, horrified. 

“I do,” she said nonchalantly and her flippant tone has Sholto swallowing back bitter tears. 

He always hoped that one day he could perhaps have a decent relationship with his mother but now Sholto understood how deluded he was to think that. Sholto objectively knew some of the Arcana have probably done much worse things but Astraea’s total disregard of Atlantean lives shook him to his core.

“Do you know what a Gesta is?” Astraea asked and the sudden topic shift left Sholto speechless. Following her question, she raised a hand, and within her grasp was a familiar book. Sholto had seen it numerous times in the past and the only thing he knew about it that it was a family heirloom. He always assumed it was a mass sigil and the question came out of left field.

“No, I don’t. Why?”

Astraea flipped the tome and Sholto squinted, trying his hardest to read the text barely legible on the front.

“Gesta… Atlantorum? What does it mean? How is this relevant?”

Astraea sighed while shaking her head.

“The title means ‘The Deeds of the Atlanteans’ in Latin. This chronicle was Dorotheos’ most valued possession.”

Sholto tried to shake his head but instead of the usual movement, Sholto’s head only jerked slightly leaving him dizzy.

“Dorotheos’ chronicle is in a New Atlantis museum and it’s considered a cultural heritage. What you’re holding is most likely just a powerful artifact attributed to Dorotheos but it can’t be theirs.”

His mother’s response was to smile enigmatically and Sholto squawked when she lay the book on his chest and then put his hands on it. However, as soon as his hands touched the tome, Sholto’s breath hitched and was assaulted by a barrage of psychic impressions. The magic of the book was alien and yet the basic structure of the spellwork looked alarmingly familiar. Sholto reached out with his mind and touched the core of the spellwork and he recoiled from it.

“This is not a sigil,” he said, glancing at Astraea. “This artifact is essentially the same as my dream journal. Or the other way around. Doesn’t matter. I sense your, grandfather’s and other people’s magic on it. What the hell is this?”

“It is a physical repository of memories not too dissimilar to the library. This is your true inheritance. We were tasked to watch and record momentous acts and deeds of our people. We are the unseen ones who watch and observe. Experiencing your dreams and prophecies while holding your dream journal, I knew that it was time for me to hand over this particular heirloom.”

Sholto frowned unsure how to feel about his new inheritance.

“What am I supposed to do with this chronicle? Do I need to write in it?”

The questions seemed to amuse Astraea and shaking her head she replied, “No, child. After you bond with the book, it is going to automatically record your memories. You do not need to actively do anything.”

Sholto rolled his eyes. “Oh wow, another thing I have to attune to. Should I even ask what’s going to happen when I bond with the book?” he asked sarcastically.

“You are going to experience the memories of every single person who has held that book from the moment they bonded with it until they either died or passed it on to their kin. It is a rather intense experience which is why I am handing it over to you while you are somewhat incapacitated.”

“Hold up,” Sholto interjected. ‘Does that mean I’m going to see your memories as well?”

“If you wish so,” said Astraea with a shrug. There are memories that are too momentous to skip over but a person with your particular talents might be able to avoid the less interesting ones. Believe me, when the bonding ritual is done, you will understand why our family is loyal to the Hourglass Throne.”

Bone-deep weariness and fatigue spread across Sholto’s body and frankly he wanted to get over the bonding ritual so that he could leave the library and sleep for a week. Then plot his mother’s downfall.

“Alright, what do I have to do?” he asked his mother. 

Astraea stood up, towering over Sholto again, and put a hand on the chronicle then in perfect Old Atlantean she announced,

“ _I, Astraea Galanis, relinquish my hold over this heirloom and entrust it to my rightful heir, Sholto Galanis. Let the Cycle continue_.”

Sholto gave his mother a shit-eating grin when nothing happened after her proclamation.

“That was rather anticlimactic,” he said relieved and then Sholto’s consciousness was snuffed out by a tidal wave of memories.


End file.
